Little Orphan Dickie
by aradian nights
Summary: Dick Grayson returns to his orphanage, and promptly wakes up all his siblings. (AU, Batkids all end up in the same orphanage)


**{little orphan dickie}**

Tim awoke to a chorus of _It's a Hard Knock Life_, and the ricocheting sound of metal ringing against metal. He bolted up straight, the room very dim as he blinked rapidly, reaching over to his nightstand and feeling blindly for his glasses. Tim jammed his glasses onto his face, blinking as the dark room became somewhat clear. Moonlight streamed in through the yawning stained glass window portraying the crucifixion of Christ in blocky red, orange, yellow, and brown shards. Tim looked around wildly, his eyes snapping wide as he saw the figure dancing between the line of beds, drumming busted pipes against the wrought-iron footboards of the orphans' beds.

"Dick?" Tim gasped, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. Tim kicked back his red woolen blanket, crawling to the foot of his bed, and looking around wildly. Jason was upright in the bed beside Tim, his black and red quilt thrown back. Jason's mop of dark brown curls bouncing against his forehead as the boy flung his legs over the side of his bed, his face twisting in the dark.

"What the fuck…?" Jason groaned, jumping to his feet. The room was filled with quiet murmurs as the other children awoke. "I thought we were done with him!"

"Shh," Tim yawned, still rubbing his eyes. His vision was bleary. "Dick! Quit it!"

Dick whirled around, and the entire room went silent. His singing ceased. The world was a breath caught inside their throats, and they were all to scared to let it go aflutter. Then, in a flourishing display, Dick leapt atop Tim's footboard, his feet balancing with a awing ease against the thin metal. Dick was clothed warmly, which was a change. A strange and frightening change, because none of them were accustomed to warmth. It was vague, the feeling of heat bursting through bones and breathing down their necks and sending them into a sinking comfort. They never had that. It wasn't the orphanage's fault— there was just never enough clothing, never enough blankets, never enough. The older kids tended to go without, which was why seeing Dick bundled in a long black coat and a tightly woven woolen scarf was so _odd_. Dick was the oldest, nearly sixteen. He had had the least of all of them, and he'd never complained about sleeping without a blanket, not even once.

"Hiya, Timmy," Dick said, twirling the pipes in hand as he crouched on the footboard. "Miss me?"

"Um…" Tim scratched his head. "Yeah, of course. But… Dick, what are you _doing_?"

"Are you drunk?" Stephanie piped up, jumping on Tim's bed, her hand stitched purple blanket draped across her shoulders like a cape.

"Yeah, Dickie," Jason said, sneering at the older boy. "You drunk?"

Dick gave a bright laugh. "As if," Dick said, jumping down in a whirl of blue and black fabric. "Who would take care of all of you suckers if I did something so irresponsible?"

"Babs?" Steph offered. She bounced on Tim's bed, the springs of his mattress squeaking. Barbara Gordon was not an orphan, but she volunteered so often that she practically lived at the orphanage anyway. Sometimes they would find her asleep on the couch in the lounge, and Dick, refusing to allow the younger children to give up their blankets, merely stripped his mattress of its sheet and draped it over the older girl.

"Grayson," Damian grumbled, shoving Colin Wilkes away as the boy clung to his arm. "You should not be home."

"Aw!" Dick crouched down, fling out his arms wide. "C'mon, Dami, I've been gone for almost two weeks! Didn't you miss me?"

"No."

"Shut up!" Steph stood up on Tim's bed, her blanket hanging limply around her shoulders as she planted her hands on her hips. "He cried for _days_, the big baby!"

"I did not!" Damian snarled, leaping at Stephanie with his eyes ablaze. Cassandra caught him around the waist mid-leap, and his limbs flailed wildly as he howled, "Shut your mouth, Brown!"

Cassandra held him tightly until he fell limp in her arms, his limbs hanging uselessly in midair. The boy's expression was gloomy in the darkness. "I hate you all," he whispered.

Cass rested her chin against Damian's hair, rocking his limp body from side to side as if he was nothing but a doll, small and skinny and staring with a gaze so fiery with loathing that Tim almost gave a shudder. All in all, they were a lot of waifs and wanderers. None of them had had a home in a very long time, and most of them had been found on the streets of Gotham. Some had been abandoned. Some had fled to the streets, because nothing could be worse than the hell that was home. Some had been given to the orphanage after the entire world had been torn from them, and left them raw and bloody as they accustomed to life alone and cold and empty.

Tim Drake's parents had died when he was four. Their faces were nothing but a hazy glow in the darkness, a white smear against a mountain of black. When he imagined home, he saw rows of beds. When he imagined safety, he thought of Dick Grayson, and Barbara Gordon, and Jason Todd, the eldest of them, and the most protective. Barbara was their watcher and protector, Dick was their affection and comfort, and Jason was the beast that instinctively attacked any and every threat in connection to possibly harming them.

"Oh god," Dick said, his eyes widening. "Damian, I'm sorry, if I had known I wouldn't have—"

"What?" Jason cut between them, his green eyes glowing in the darkness, angry and bitter. "You'd have said no to Bruce Wayne? Please. Little Orphan Dickie had it too good."

"Shut up, Jay, " Dick said. He ran his fingers through his hair, and he took a deep breath. "Gosh, you guys, I thought you'd be a little happier. I'm home now. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Is this because of our letter?" Tim squeaked, wincing as Stephanie bounced once again, causing him to almost topple off his bed. "Dick… like, we miss you. A lot. But…"

"But holy crap, dude!" Stephanie jumped over Tim's footboard, landing easily on her feet. "It's like three am! Did something happen? Is Wayne mean to you? 'Cause we can beat him up."

"Dude," Harper Row said, crawling across Jason's bed, her choppy brown hair tangled around her head. Cullen was clinging to her shirt, staring up at Dick with wide eyes. Tim didn't blame him. It took a lot for Tim to not run to Dick and tackle him into a hug. No, there was something very wrong here. Tim could sense it. "No we can't, he's gotta like own half of Gotham."

"Guys, no," Dick said, looking around at all of them. His expression had become almost frantic. "No way, Bruce is… he's really nice."

"Then what are you _doing_ here?" Jason asked, shoving Dick backwards. The boy stumbled, and Tim leapt off his bed, grabbing Jason by back of his baggy tee shirt, and yanking him back. Jason paid him no mind. "Like, we're not going to break without you, you know! We can deal. We're big kids now."

"I…" Dick looked startled. "I thought that you might not—"

"Dick," Cass said, her arms still draped across Damian's shoulders. "You adopted now. You no need us no more."

"No!" Dick gasped, stumbling over himself to reach them. Damian glared up at Dick, and said nothing. "No, that's exactly why I'm here, I— I do need you guys! I don't… I don't know what to do. I belong here, not…" Dick bit his lip, and he rubbed his face tiredly. "God, I don't know. I just… I really miss you guys, okay?"

For a few moments, they were all very quiet. Tim looked around, and they all seemed to have drawn themselves to a consensual conclusion. Stephanie was the first to act on it. Her purple blanket fluttered through the air as she flung her arms around Dick's chest, hugging him from behind. Her face dug into his back, and Tim could see her shaking a little. They had all been so confused, it hadn't really registered until now that Dick was _back_. And two weeks without him had been… well, not much had actually changed, but the place felt a lot… emptier.

"We miss you too," Steph gasped. "We miss you _a lot_."

Tim tentatively joined in, hugging Dick as well as he twisted to face Stephanie. The moment he did, the troops piled in. Cullen and Harper jumped together, tackling Dick to the ground and cackling as they did so. Carrie Kelley burrowed herself between Tim and Steph, her pale face glowing happily in the darkness. Cass crawled over to them, smiling brightly as they all began to laugh, and she tugged at Dick's hair.

"Damian want you," she whispered. She blinked, and rubbed her cheek sheepishly. "Um, wants. Damian wants you."

"Damian, come on!" Dick called. "Gimme a hug!"

"He's hiding," Jason said. Tim twisted his body so he could look at the boy, and he saw that Jason's arms were folded across his chest. "Damian, hug your fucking brother before the feds come looking for him, kay?"

"The same could go for you, Mister Grumpy-pants!" Steph snapped. She wriggled out from under Carrie, and she waved her arm. "Come on, join in!"

"Um, no." Jason glared down at them, and Tim adjusted his glasses, groaning as Dick squished them all together. "I'll pass, thanks."

"Jason!" Dick whined. He squirmed beneath the pile of children atop him. "Dami! Come on you guys! Love me!"

"We love you," Cass said, giving Dick a peck on the cheek. "Now Damian?"

"Yes," Dick laughed, snuggling against them. The dog pile was very warm, and it was mostly just a mess of tangled limbs and laughter. "Okay, my little minions, attack Damian and Jason!"

"Whoo!" Steph cried, shoving everyone off her and jumping to her feet. "Jason, your ass is mine!"

"Flattering," Jason said, unfazed. He dodged her as she dove at him, and he grimaced as she caught unto his tee shirt and jumped onto his back. "Ow! Shit, get off!"

Tim scooted away from Carrie, who was crawling under Tim's bed to look for Damian. He pushed himself to his feet and ran at Jason, kicking his legs out from under him. He went crashing to the ground face first with Stephanie clinging to his back. She pinned him down as he squirmed and swore.

"Dick, we caught him!" Steph called.

"I found Damian!" Colin called. "He's— ow! You just _bit _me!"

Tim heard a wordless snarl, and he could only roll his eyes. _What a little demon_. Damian had been at the orphanage for a long time. Since birth, nearly. No one would adopt him because he was such a devil-child. He literally manipulated anyone interested in him into turning the blind eye to him. Tim didn't know why he did this. After all, it's not like he'd ever had any parents anyway. In reality, Dick and Barbara were the closest things to parental figures the child had ever had. _But then again, I don't have many memories of my parents either. So maybe I'm just as bad?_

Tim didn't know.

In the end, Dick ended up scooping a squalling Damian into his arms, squishing the small child to his chest. "Get off!" Damian shrieked. "Get off me, Grayson, I hate you!"

"Nuh uh," Dick said, wrestling with their youngest, and tickling the boy under his arms. Damian's shrieks turned into soft, bursting giggles, and his face looked pained as he kicked and clawed at the air. "You _love_ me!"

"N-no!" Damian kicked and squirmed, his laughter strained as he crumbled under Dick's dancing fingers. "You left! N-no, I hate you, I—!"

"Yeah?" Dick yanked up Damian's shirt, his round, chubby tummy bared as Dick pressed his mouth to it and blew. It was a cute little trick that he learned that made all of the littlest orphans laugh. When Tim had been younger, he'd done it to him too, and he remembered the tickling feeling of vibrations running through his tummy like bursts of bubbles. Damian gave a shriek of laughter, his entire body jerking as he laughed and smacked at Dick's face half-heartedly. "Yeah, you _hate_ me, huh?"

"Yes," Damian gasped, tears in his eyes. "S-stop!"

"Nope!" Dick cried. "Never!"

They all eventually fell asleep in a tangle of limbs, each of them trying to clutch at their brother for just a little longer before Bruce Wayne awoke to find his new son missing.

* * *

_Excuse me, there's some cute in my eye._

_A prompt from Tumblr._


End file.
